


sunlight bright upon my pillow

by TheNim



Series: Febuwhump 2021 madness [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNim/pseuds/TheNim
Summary: Fenris cannot sleep.From Febuwhump 2021. DAY 6: INSOMNIA
Relationships: Fenris & Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Fenris/Female Hawke
Series: Febuwhump 2021 madness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153637
Kudos: 10





	sunlight bright upon my pillow

Fenris turns around for what must be the hundredth time. The sun hasn’t risen yet, though it must be close to dawn.

He stares blankly at the ghostly image of the room around him: the hearth has died down, the cold air smells of mold and rotten corpses and he wants to get out of here.

Even nightmares would be better than this. Right now, he’s simply awake. He considers knocking himself out with wine, or maybe going for a jog around High Town. Sleep has eluded him many nights in the past, he thinks sourly, but it'd become rarer recently.

The days spent with Hawke’s group leave him satisfied and weary by evening, though he can’t bring himself to gather why. Defiant and noisy as she may be, there’s a certain air about Hawke that he finds surprisingly calming, like he can trust her to watch his back.

That is rather true, in fact. There’s little that escapes the warrior’s keen eye, and even less she leaves to chance. As coarse as Julia Hawke may seem, she keeps her wits about her and her head on her shoulders.

Fenris likes her plenty, if not for her seemingly unwavering belief that she must befriend any and all the people who become part of her little mismatched crique. For the last few weeks, she’s knocked on his door more times than he can care to count and, he’ll be damned, most of the times it’d been to ‘hang out’.

“Aw, don’t be so cranky,” she’d say in that blighted Fereldan accent of hers, making herself at home in the most obnoxious manner she could muster. She’d sprawl her beefy human body over a sofa or the other, kick off her boots and ask him questions, or read a book while stuffing her face with whatever pastry she’d bring that time.

“Like it here, ‘s nicer than Merril’s at least. And both Bela and Varric live in a fucking shithole.” Hawke had shrugged after Fenris had stopped caring about sounding rude and asked why she was always there. Then she’d scrunched her freckled nose in that endearing, juvenile way she had when she wanted to show particular disgust. “And Anders’s place _reeks_.”

Fenris had simply nodded, politely refraining from pointing out that there were literal corpses lying around the huge halls of Danarius’s mansion. He’d waved it off as another human quirk and surrendered to Hawke’s insisting presence.

And why's he thinking about Hawke anyways?

Damn, he’s going to look like a wraith out of the grave by morning. As he squints his eyes to look out of the yellowed window, he notices it's already morning. The sky is brightening, turning a pale blue that awfully resembles Fenris's markings. The lyrium thrums under his skin, itching in a way he can’t placate, and he wants to cry in frustration.

For as long as his memory goes, he’s never cried. Maybe he did when he got those blighted tattoos, or when his family was taken from him, or when he scratched his knee as a child. Fenris hasn't got the slightest idea.

He’s seen something in his dream, he’s sure of it, but the images elude him by morning like water in his hands.  


Fenris turns around again. The dusty sheets are twisted tight around him, almost trapping him as if phantom limbs, he thinks sourly. He’s cold and hot at the same time, he wants to scream and laugh and tear his hair out.

Hawke. Why’s he thinking about her again? Hawke, Hawke, with her chestnut hair and pale eyes. She takes from her father, Bethany had said once, red lips forming the widest smile Fenris had ever seen from the mage.

Suddenly, he’s up and moving. He puts on his armor almost in a trance and wearily walks out of the front door, bare feet tapping on High Town’s frigid marble tiles.

Fenris is in Low Town before he can even realize it.

Here it is, the Hawke family's ‘residence’ if you can call it such. Fenris stands by the lurid door without knowing why he’s there. It’s, most likely, the least appropriate time to be anywhere.

“My door’s always open. Well, most of the time anyways, the stench of piss gets particularly annoying at breakfast, ya know?” Hawke had once said to Merrill while they were playing cards at the Hanged Man.  


Fenris shakes his head and turns around to leave. It takes him a moment to remember Hawke has a mabari before a sharp bark pierces the air.

“Oh shi-” he’s about to say, before he’s assailed by eighty pounds of war hound and a wide tongue excitedly lathers his face with drool. “Get off, get off I said!” He recoils under the attention, barely catching a familiar freckled face from his dog-filled sight.

“Truffles, what’s-” Hawke’s voice is rough with sleep. She blinks twice and suppresses a surprised yelp before she’s on her knees to aid the poor elf. “Fenris? What comes?” She covers a yawn with the back of her hand as she helps him up, even though she’s clearly alarmed by his presence.

“Good morning Hawke, I-” Fenris coughs, he knows he’s making a fool of himself. Ears flattening with embarrassment, he continues. “I was just, uh, passing by. A mere errand, you see. Apologies.”

“Errand? At four in the morning?” Hawke chuckles, wearily leaning on the door frame. She’s donning a loose white shirt that shows what her armor hides, and Fenris should definitely tear away his eyes from the enticing sight of a collarbone. He’s too tired to care however, so he takes in anything he can. "You're lucky I'm the only light sleeper, else you wouldn't make it out of here alive!"  


“Mmh,” he adds in his defence, trailing his eyes on the soft unkempt locks framing her face. Hawke smiles sweetly when their gazes meet.

“Come, I’ll make you tea.” She pats the door once and gestures inside, not waiting for him to accept before she disappears from his sight.  Inside it's dark and damp, and Fenris's pretty sure he hears mice scuttling across the most shadowed corners.

"Sorry for the mess," Hawke says from her spot near the counter, where she's boiling some hot water.

A twinkle in her eye tells she's joking, but Fenris shrugs and mutters, "It's fine. Thank you, Hawke." He knows he's being far too accomodating, he can see it in the way Hawke is 'subtly' studying him, so he keeps his face as neutral as possible.  


However, the tea is more dirty water than anything else, and Hawke laughs at Fenris's thinly veiled disgust. His sleep deprived brain tries to come up with some conversation, but he's snapped out of his predicament as something wet touches his thigh, and he hears whining. Under the table Truffles is nosing his leg, asking for pets.

"She likes you," Hawke grins around a yawn while her head lays on the table, and she cooes when Fenris gingerly pats the dog's giant head. "Who's a good girl, huh? Who's the best girl in the world?" Truffles wags her tail, basking in the attention.

"My apologies," Fenris says after a while, noticing that Hawke is on the verge of sleep. "I shouldn't intrude fur-"

"Hey, hey Fenris. Varric borrowed me some book of his an' it's bloody awful! Wanna hear?" Hawke mock whispers conspiratorially, hand covering her mouth as she barely hides a giggle.

"Hawke, I'm-" 

"C'mon, you can stay over. It's been a while since we had had any decent guests, uncle Gamlen's creditors are hardly civil," her tone takes on a fakely snobbish note. Fenris almost says no out of pure habit, but Hawke's house has given him much craved comfort and he pauses for a bit, actually mulling it over.  


"Alright," he says, because he's tired and jumpy and he can't bear to set foot in that dreary mansion again. Hawke's smile gets wider, dimpling her cheeks and making her look more like her age.  


Hawke's reading voice is low and warm, her storytelling comicly on point. She changes tone for different characters and gesticulates when a scene is particuarly gripping.

Truffles has sneaked her head on Fenris's lap, and they're leaning on the wall because Hawke's home doesn't have a sofa, and the rest of the family is sleeping in the remaining rooms.

Nonetheless, Fenris feels at peace. Although bricks are digging in his back and he's pretty sure his breeches are getting sogged by mabari drool, he's certain he's never been so comfortable in his life. 

Hawke's thigh is warm against his and he slowly closes his eyes, deaf to everything but the rhythmic cadence of her voice.

"Ah," Leandra Hawke stops in her steps as soon as she enters the living room. The fire has died down, leaving only the timid sunlight shining from a lurid window near the entrance.

Her eldest daughter is reclined against the wall, fast asleep and snoring lightly. Resting on her lap, both their mabari Truffles and one of her companions, Fenris she thinks his name is, are also sleeping. The sight is homely and warm, and Leandra purses her lips in a somber smile, recalling fond memories of many years before.

There's a bit of rustling before an unruly mop of hair appears from the other door. "Mother," Bethany blinks, "is there-"

Leandra shushes her with a quick wave. "Hush Beth, let them sleep."

**Author's Note:**

> watch me finish this freaking thing by august


End file.
